


Never An Easy Way

by calenlily



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Episode: s05e22 Not Fade Away, F/F, Loyalty, this is basically the Fuffy fic that’s all about Angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 10:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27469171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calenlily/pseuds/calenlily
Summary: “Rise and shine, B, there’s an apocalypse brewing and we’d best be on the road.”Buffy groans, blinking against the sudden influx of light as Faith flicks on the overheads. It’s been less than two hours since they laid down for the night. “Of course there is, it’s May. Should’ve known better than to think we could get through the month without one. Where’re we going?”“LA.”(Faith, Buffy, and all their baggage, on the road to NFA.)
Relationships: Angel & Faith Lehane, Faith Lehane/Buffy Summers, implied/referenced Buffy/Angel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	Never An Easy Way

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Milkshakes and Confessions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22603270) by [calenlily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/calenlily/pseuds/calenlily). 



> This is a loose sequel to _Milkshakes and Confessions_ , although it can probably read as a standalone; the only really necessary context is that Buffy and Faith have both been living fairly nomadic lives post- _Chosen_ and hooked up about a month before this fic took place. It’s probably not the sequel to M&C that anyone was looking for, nor one that I originally intended to write, but I was looking back on it one day and noticed the throwaway comment that Faith had been in and out of LA and the timeline of “close to a year after _Chosen_ ” and realized that our girls had maybe a month to get their shit together before NFA went down. And once that occurred to me, I refused to believe in any future for that world that didn’t involve two pissed Slayers riding hell for leather to make it to the apocalypse on time.

Faith’s first instinct when she gets the call from Wes is to run in the opposite direction: every selfish bone in her body (and there are a lot of them) screaming for her to take B and get the hell out of dodge, because there’s no way this can end well.

The last few weeks have been ... well, they’ve been messy and complicated, cuz her and B have way too much baggage to make anything simple. But on the whole, it’s been good. It’s been a dream, really. Just the two of them, and the open road, and no shortage of demon ass to kick. It’s everything she ever wanted, once upon a time, only better cuz they understand each other better now than they ever did back then.

(That probably should have been her clue that it couldn’t last. Chicks like Faith don’t get happy endings.)

Anyway, Faith’s spent too much of her life wrecking every good thing she might’ve had going for her by being greedy. If she wants to not be that fuckup anymore, she’s gotta ignore those selfish instincts and do the right thing.

Some days, this redemption gig really blows. (She imagines voicing that complaint to Angel, and she can just picture his reaction – that wry smile of his, half-sympathetic, half-amused – and her heart twists. She can bitch about getting dragged into his messes later, just so long as they can drag his ass out of the fire in time that he’s still around to bitch at.)

So when she hangs up the phone, she walks back into tonight’s shitty motel room and nudges the body still curled up in the bed. “Rise and shine, B, there’s an apocalypse brewing and we’d best be on the road.”

Buffy groans, blinking against the sudden influx of light as Faith flicks on the overheads. It’s been less than two hours since they laid down for the night. “Of course there is, it’s May. Should’ve known better than to think we could get through the month without one. Where’re we going?”

“LA.”

The blonde snaps to full alertness in an instant, and her face goes white. “I thought LA had its share of protectors already.”

“Word is, something wicked big’s coming down the pipes, and there may be more trouble than Angel’s crew can handle. Look, B, I know your Council doesn’t trust him anymore, but –”

“Fuck the Council,” Buffy snaps, already pulling on her clothes. “How soon can we be moving?”

***

“What do you mean, _my_ Council?” B demands over a hurried breakfast. (Does it still count as breakfast when it’s pre-dawn and you’ve barely been to bed?)

Faith shrugs. “You’re the one working for them, aren’t you?” Faith had got clear of the Watchers’ Council as soon as there was a Council again to get clear of; she’s an independent agent these days. She kills only the things that need to be killed, keeps her bloodstained hands off the baby Slayers, and the self-righteous squad stays out of her hair. Everyone’s happier that way.

“That doesn’t mean I have any voice in what they think.” The blonde scowls. “You think I’m a wandering Slayer-finder because I’m so essential to them in that capacity?”

No, Faith knows better than that. She’s known from that first night their paths crossed in Nowhere, USA that her sister Slayer was running. B just keeps her job description and loose Council ties because even running away she has to do the responsible way. (And no doubt a bit because the Council needs the original Slayer’s name and reputation, and no matter how much Faith might think she ought to tell them all to go to hell, Buffy’s never been good at saying no to her friends.) “No, I get that,” she says now.

“You know I’m on a need to know basis. Though I’m starting to think after this is over I might be due a little talk with Giles about what exactly I need to know. What do you mean the Council doesn’t trust Angel anymore?”

“The way I hear tell, he’s been on their shit list since he’s been at Wolfram & Hart. There was a whole big thing when he recovered a Slayer who’d gone psycho and the Council insisted on taking custody, and they were wicked rude the last time he tried to ask for help.” Buffy’s stricken look brings her up short. “Shit, B, you really didn’t know _any_ of this?”

The other girl shakes her head. “I can’t believe them! Angel and I talked a bit about the Wolfram & Hart thing before we all left for Cleveland. I can’t claim to understand his reasons for taking the job, but I know he had them. Why? ...Oh God, if they’re using my name....” Her expression turns from betrayed to outright murderous.

Faith tugs at her arm, taking that as her cue to get this show on the road. “C’mon, B. Save the day now. We can burn down the Council later.”

***

They drive through what’s left of the night and on into the day. They’re at least on the west coast this week – for which Faith takes a moment to thank whatever Powers might be listening – but they’ve got hundreds of miles still to cover before nightfall. (She sends up an additional thanks, for the fact that California drivers are all insane, when a cop flies by them without a second glance because even though they’re pushing 100 in a 70 zone the cars around them are going just as fast.)

As the day wears on, both Slayers grow progressively shorter-tempered: snapping at each other over every minor irritation, bickering about everything from their route to battle strategies. In the old days, they would’ve gotten into a knock-down drag-out fight by now.

But this isn’t the old days, so when they’ve been on the road a solid ten hours and the tension riding with them is nearing a breaking point, Faith pulls off the interstate over her companion’s objections and finds another cheap motel. At this rate, she declares, they won’t be fit for battle if they don’t get some rest first. (Certainly Faith won’t, at the very least. B’s caught a few catnaps, but Faith’s been in the driver’s seat most of the day, and sleeping during the stretches when Buffy’s behind the wheel takes stronger nerves than hers.)

Besides, they may only be an hour or two out from the city under good conditions, but they’d be heading into the worst of the afternoon traffic if they kept driving now.

***

Faith makes cup ramen in the tiny kitchenette while Buffy steps outside to make a transcontinental phone call. She tries not to eavesdrop, but can’t help catching snatches.

“You there, Will? ...take it as a personal favor ... least we can do....”

“Enlisting Red?” she asks when the other girl returns to the room.

“We’ll see.” B grimaces. “I left a message. Who knows where she is now or when she’ll get it, let alone if she’ll be willing to help, but it’s at least a chance at back up. If nothing else, if we don’t make it out, someone will know there’s a situation needing cleanup.”

“You’re wicked pessimistic today.”

“When we’re headed for a world of badness that all we really know about is it could be too much for the locals? If that doesn’t unnerve you, it _should_.” More softly, Buffy adds, “I asked him to prepare a second front before we faced the First, you know?”

“I know. You think we’re looking at that kind of big?”

“I think it must be. Angel _doesn’t_ ask for backup.”

Faith refrains from pointing out that technically it was Wes who asked them for backup, mostly because she’s not sure herself what that distinction means.

The older Slayer takes the offered cup of noodles and stabs her spoon into it with a scowl. “I don’t like not knowing what kind of ugly we’re walking into, I don’t like not knowing if we’ll even get there in time, and I _really_ don’t like being stalled.”

“We’ve been making good time,” Faith reminds her. “But we need a few hours sleep if we want to be any good to anyone in battle.”

“We won’t be any good to anyone if we _miss_ the battle, either!”

“We won’t – It’s going on rush hour, anyway! We’d lose as much time stuck in gridlock as we gained, staying on the road now.”

“We should be moving!”

“Come off it, B, there’s hours still till dusk. I _have_ thought this through. Look, I know you’re never gonna love me like you love him, but can you at least trust that I care about this too?” Faith snaps, fed up with having her motivation questioned. She knows as soon as the words are out that it’s an uncalled for low blow.

B goes pale, her eyes flashing angrily. “Fuck you, it’s not like that!”

Then again, maybe it’s for the best if they have it out now and have done with it. They’ve made a lot of progress in working through their tangled past in recent weeks, but Angel has remained a taboo subject, and it’s one they can’t afford to keep avoiding anymore. “Then what is it like?” she prods, hoping she can goad B into blowing up instead of just closing off again. (Maybe they aren’t so far from the old days after all.) “From where I’m seeing it right now, you’d throw me over for him in a heartbeat if you had the chance.”

“Angel and I aren’t – we don’t belong together anymore,” Buffy protests.

“As the one who nearly died for trying to get between you two, forgive me if I don’t believe _that_ til I see it.”

The older Slayer fingers the scar at her neck. Her voice is cold. “You’re not the only one who nearly died for it.”

“You’re right, we all had a go-round with the near-death experiences that day.” It’s a soft admission; she’s lost her anger as swiftly as it came. Unconsciously, Faith’s fingers stray to her own bite scar, and she wonders if it makes it better or worse that they match now. “You’re not the only one who’s nearly died to save him, either.”

“Is it fucked up that I’m kinda jealous of you for that, too?” B asks wryly.

Faith shrugs. “Beats me, I got no place to judge from fucked up. ...Point is, I don’t like dredging all this up any more than you do. We’ve got a good thing going here, first time in my life I’ve really had anything worth holding onto, and I’m fucking terrified it’s about to blow up in our faces. But this isn’t about you, or us. Angel saw me as worth saving when no one else did, and I can’t not come when he needs me.”

Buffy regards her intently for what feels like a very long time, and then her expression softens. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

“Nah, I’m the lucky one. ...Hey, chin up, B. We’ll all get through this, kick whatever ass needs kicking, and it’ll come out alright.”

“You really think so?”

“The world hasn’t ended on our watch yet, has it?” Faith replies.

Her confidence is mostly a lie; she doesn’t have a clue what they’re walking into, and their record of averted apocalypses has come with more than a few casualties. But she’s not used to seeing B so vulnerable and uncertain, and it freaks her enough to fall back on the old standby of faking tough.

Apparently it was the right thing to say, because Buffy kisses her then, raw and needy, grabbing at Faith’s shoulders like she’s searching for an anchor. They end up tangled up in each other, having the kind of frenzied, desperate, clinging-to-connection sex that only comes on the eve of an apocalypse, until they’ve exhausted themselves enough to sleep despite the stress.

In the minutes before sleep claims her, Faith considers the blonde head that rests trustingly upon her breast and the rare gift her lover has given her by turning to her for reassurance, letting her guard all the way down. Maybe Buffy does love her, at least a little.

***

It’s dark when they wake, the glow of sunset fading on the horizon. (It must have been a spectacular one, Faith reflects idly, given the heavy dark clouds that have rolled in.) They’re checked out and back on the freeway within ten minutes, and drive the last two hours into LA in near silence.

They pull up to the Wolfram & Hart offices to find the building collapsed. Fighting the panic rising in her gut, Faith tries navigating to the Hyperion instead.

They can’t get closer than a block away, on account of the literal army of demons massing in the street. There’s a horde of foot-soldiers like something out of Lord of the Rings, an enormous giant, and ... is that a legit fucking dragon?!

“I think this is our stop,” Faith remarks, and discovers she’s talking to thin air. B is rummaging in the trunk for her scythe almost before she has the car turned off.

Faith grabs her own weapons and dashes after the blonde. It’s too soon to tell if they have any friends left in this mess to save – but either way, there’s no shortage of work to be done, and no time to waste.


End file.
